


Transference

by saintsammy



Series: Capture Bond Verse [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood Drinking, Demon Blood Addiction, Demon Dean, M/M, Original Character(s), Past Attempted Rape/Noncon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Unrequited Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, dubcon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-17
Updated: 2016-05-15
Packaged: 2018-05-14 10:11:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5739712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saintsammy/pseuds/saintsammy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A follow-up to Capture Bond, a canon divergent AU. Sam and Benny have returned from Purgatory and are on the path to curing Dean's Hell-tainted soul.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here we go, folks. This part will have longer and hopefully fewer chapters than Capture Bond. Please check the tags chapter to chapter because they are subject to change as the story progresses. Thanks for reading!

_A zero-sum game._

* * *

 

When Benny came to, he immediately knew he wasn’t on Earth. He was wearing the same old blood-stained black coat and he had the taste of Sam still on his lips. So where _was_ here?

More importantly, where was Sam?

He was indoors. It looked like a regular jail cell composed of three walls of solid concrete bricks and one of bars, but with strange runes etched into the iron. Dead man’s blood was smeared on the bars of his cell, the scent making his nose wrinkle. He sat up on the cot and looked around at the other empty cells. The one furthest away in the corner seemed to be the only occupied one; something big was shifting around and rustling occasionally. At this angle, Benny couldn’t see much but the smell of ozone was strong. Whatever it was, it wasn’t human or like any monster Benny had ever encountered.

The whole place had an air of detention. Was he in Hell?

There were no windows even outside the cells; just more brick and concrete and one door at the end of the narrow hallway. He could not hear or smell anything that gave him any clues either.

It was difficult to track the passing of time and Benny grew bored quickly. At least in Purgatory he could hunt and kill and work off his pent-up frustrations. He’d gone from one big free range cage to a smaller, more depressing one. A more thorough examination of his cell did not yield any weaknesses that he could use to break out. Even with vampire strength it would be impossible to bend the thick, solid metal bars. The dead blood seemed more like a warning than an actual deterrent but it did remind him of his hunger.

Anxiety over Sam’s whereabouts ate at him and prevented him from sleeping.

‡ ‡ ‡

After an indeterminate amount of time, Benny’s ears pricked up when the only door leading out of the room opened. There was a stronger whiff of ozone and a man in a dark suit walked in, holding a plastic bag of blood. Benny was reminded forcibly of a demon by the way the newcomer moved; like he was not quite at home in the skin he was wearing. He stopped in front of Benny’s cell, lip curling as he pushed the bag through the bars until it dropped to the ground.

“Here, vampire. Courtesy of Castiel, since you are under his protection.”

“Where’s Sam?” Benny inched towards the blood bag. He didn’t give two fucks about himself if Sam was in danger.

The creature’s lip curled even more. “Castiel, head of an Earth-based garrison of Heaven. The Winchester boy is currently in his company. On Earth.”

“Am I in Heaven? When can I get back to Sam?” This must be an angel. If Hell and demons were real, then it was only logical that Heaven and angels existed. Color Benny unimpressed. He slurps a little blood up through the tube in the bag, staring at the suited angel.

“When Castiel deems it necessary, he will collect you.” The angel turned heel and walked away, pausing at the cell holding the other prisoner. Harsh words in a language Benny didn’t recognize were barked at the thing in the cage and it answered in a pained whimper. The suited angel laughed derisively and exited without a second glance at Benny.

‡ ‡ ‡

That one interaction set the tone for the rest of Benny’s confinement.

The suited angel would bring him a bag of blood just when the hunger pangs were getting serious and then refuse to answer any of Benny’s questions. He tried talking to the thing in the cage and all he got in return was mournful wailing and guttural language Benny didn’t understand. Maybe it was an angel too.

His cell had a sink, a toilet that was practically a hole in the ground, and the uncomfortable cot. Mostly out of boredom, Benny took spit bathes in the sink and did simple exercises to maintain some of his fighting shape. Further inspection of his cell did not yield any new means of escape. He measured time by the arrival of a new blood bag.

The only breaks in routine were when three new angels pulled the other prisoner out of his cell for short periods of time. Benny got glimpses of huge gray and cream feathered wings attached to a terrified male angel before the others hauled him off. The prisoner always came back smelling of blood with chunks of feathers missing from his damaged wings. He wasn’t quite sure why the others didn’t have wings; unless they hid their actual forms from sight? There were too many questions about Heaven and angels to count now.

Those were the worst parts of being confined: having to hear the dry sobs of the recently tortured creature. Benny did not know his crimes, but three armed angels on one prisoner was not a fair fight. Purgatory laws were harsh but he was not used to this brand of cruelty.

Why did Heaven have a prison in the first place? Benny was raised Roman Catholic but his connection to religion drained out of him when his mortal life did. While Purgatory was not the place of purification he’d been taught, surely Heaven was still the ultimate reward? He thought Hell was prison for human souls and angels alike, if the whispers in Purgatory were to be believed. Heaven and Hell were somewhat abstract concepts now that he was not human and he wasn’t even sure why his soul could exist here.

He didn’t even belong in Heaven’s prison.

‡ ‡ ‡

Benny was whistling and scratching idly at a groove he’d worn away in one of the iron bars of his cell when the suited angel finally freed him.

The other prisoner didn’t respond to Benny in English but that didn’t stop him from trying to communicate. He was a social creature and needed interactions with someone other than the sneering angel guard.

“Too bad you’re not a priest ‘cos I could use a good confession’,” Benny sighed. “I lived a bad, bad life ‘cos what other life can a bloodsucker live? Until I met Andrea, I thought my maker was my new God. We killed to live and killed some more for the hell of it.

“When I died the second time, I thought that was it for me. Eternity in Purgatory. Then Sam came along... funny how that works.” Benny couldn’t help but talk about Sam. It wasn’t like the angel knew who he was on about anyway in his lovesick ramblings.

He had no idea if angels understood the concept of partners or mates.

Whistling became an important pastime to alleviate boredom and the injured angel would listen and sometimes harmonize with him in unearthly, dulcet tones. Benny was amused by the thought of teaching an angel jazz tunes instead of old bible hymns he half-remembered. They were halfway through a song when the suited angel entered the room and the other prisoner went silent and cowered in the furthest corner of his cell.  The guard ignored the other angel and walked over to Benny’s cell but he wasn’t carrying a blood bag.

“Castiel has come for you,” the angel eyed him contemptuously before unlocking his cell door. “Follow the hall outside the door and he will be waiting for you.”

Benny stared at him but didn’t move right away. It felt like a few months at least since he’d been imprisoned. This seemed too easy, just escorting himself out. The angel huffed and walked away without him, banging on the bars of the other angel’s cell and causing the other to cry out in fear before exiting.

Frowning, Benny expected more angels to come back for him but he supposed he wasn’t important enough to guard too carefully.

He pushed open his cell door and listened intently for the sounds of footsteps. When he didn’t hear anything, he pushed open the door and paused in front of the other prisoner’s cell. The angel was cloaked in his own wings and quivering in the corner.

“Don’t say I never did nothin for ya,” Benny grunted as he gave the door of the angel’s cell a half a dozen solid thumps with his fists. It hurt, but he managed to damage the surface of the bars enough to warp some of the strange symbols holding the angel inside. The lock clicked and the door swung open on its own. The crouching figure looked up at him, giant tattered wings covering most of his body. He held still as though waiting for punishment.

“C’mon, get outta here while you can.” Benny pitied the angel but couldn’t take any more responsibility for him. He hurried out of the prison before the other angels realized what he did.

As he reached the end of the hallway, he heard tentative footsteps and looked back to see the tall figure of the angel in the doorway of the prison. He nodded at Benny and with a _whoosh_ of noise, disappeared in a whirl of feathers.

Benny hoped he didn’t make a grave mistake in freeing him.

‡ ‡ ‡

The angel Castiel was waiting for Benny on the other side of the door at the end of the hall. He moved a little more convincingly than the guard angel did but Benny’s hackles rose anyway as the angel held a hand up for a handshake. He was wearing a tan trench coat over a suit and his piercing eyes bore into Benny’s in a way that made him uneasy.

“Benny Lafitte. I am Castiel, temporary guardian of the Winchesters,” the angel’s voice was much lower than he expected.

“Charmed. Can I see Sam now?”

The angel inclined his head. “Yes. Sam Winchester refuses to offer any further assistance to the garrison without your presence. I’ve prepared your body and will transport your soul to Earth.”

“I’m much obliged.” Benny eyed the angel, expecting a catch.

“There is something I would like to discuss before we return, however.”

Ah. There it is. Benny cocked an eyebrow, motioning for Castiel to continue.

“You are a vampire. A threat to humankind. And yet Sam has expressed affection for you and mentioned that you saved his life in Purgatory. For that I am grateful.”

“I saved his, he saved mine.”

The angel nodded. “Be aware that if any harm comes to him in your company, there are no second chances. Do we understand each other?”

“Yes. Now can we get this show on the road?” Benny ignored the veiled threat. He was sick of Heaven. Give him Earth any old day.

‡ ‡ ‡

Benny sat up in his newly restored body, cracking his neck and flexing his arms and legs. The forest ground was middle-of-winter cold and this was not where he was buried originally. He breathed in the ozone smell of the angel and the scent of freshly turned earth of his grave clinging to his clothes, fangs dropping down experimentally.

“Thank you, Cas. So much.” A voice sounded from behind Benny as he scented someone else near.

Sam came into view, smelling clean and calm and delicious. A tentative smile curved his lips and he tucked his hair (a little longer than Benny remembered) behind his ear. He looked a little tired around the eyes but otherwise well.

“Hi, Benny.”

Benny got to his feet slow to make sure he didn’t trip and embarrass the life out of himself.

He wanted to scoop Sam up and hide him away from the angel’s prying eyes but he settled for embracing him tightly and getting a lungful of his sweet, fresh scent. Sam rubbed his cold-flushed face against Benny’s shoulder, letting out a little sigh.

“I missed you,” he said in a small voice.

“Missed you too, sugar. Heaven was...uh, something.” Sam chuckled and stepped back, hand still on Benny’s shoulder.

“Thanks again, Cas. Just let me know when you need me again, okay?”

The angel nodded. “I will call on you soon. Remember what I’ve taught you and put it to use on your hunts.”  
  
With that he was gone in a _whoosh_ like the prisoner angel. Benny and Sam simply looked at each other and Benny felt a little awkward with his old, dirty clothes and new hunger clawing at his belly. Who knows how long it’d been since this body had had blood?

“I have a car a little ways back there,” Sam pointed to a trail through the trees. “I figured we could catch up and figure out where to go from here.”

“Sounds good. Sam, it sure is good to hear your voice again. How long were we apart?” Benny kept close to him as they trekked out of the wooded area.

“Little over a month. I wanted you out sooner but Cas drove a hard bargain,” Sam said darkly.

“So... angels. Figured they existed if demons did but they’re sure different than I pictured.”

“Heh, yeah. I’ve only been around Cas. He’s an okay guy. Helped set me straight when I got out,” Sam glanced back at Benny. “I’m sorry it took so long.”

Benny waved a hand. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve been dead for forty years, a few weeks are nothin’.”

When they were seated in the old, beat-up Chevelle Sam was borrowing, Benny slid into the passenger seat while Sam fumbled with something in the backseat.

“I, uh, got you something,” Sam said shyly.

He pulled a folded charcoal gray coat up from a clothing bag. It was similar to the one Benny was buried in but with a more modern cut. Tucked into the pocket was his bone-handled flint blade from Purgatory washed clean of old blood and grime. Benny was surprised it survived the journey back.

“I had to guess on the size but I think it’ll fit you okay.”

“Sugar, it’s perfect.” Benny fingered the sturdy wool cloth and smiled widely at Sam.

“We’ll have to find you some more new clothes that fit soon but I figured you would be tired and maybe want to sleep in a real bed? I got a hotel room not far from here.”

‡ ‡ ‡

Taking a hot shower was like a religious experience itself. Benny spent way longer than he ever had in a shower before, scrubbing off the grave dirt and letting the water soothe aches in his restored body. After he dried off, he pulled on the t-shirt and shorts Sam provided him with.

When he emerged from the bathroom, Sam produced a cooler filled with blood bags. He sat on one of the beds as Benny gratefully took one and fed.

“You sure take good care of this old man, _petit lapin_ ,” Benny said between mouthfuls of blood.

Sam rolled his eyes with a smirk. “Still with that nickname?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Just don’t call me sweetheart. It’s sleazy,” Sam watched him feed with a faint smile. “I had so many questions for you about Heaven but I can’t think of a single one right now. It’s just...so good to see you.”

Benny wiped his mouth. “I feel the same. Doesn’t matter now that I know you’re safe. As long as your wounds healed up alright?”

Sam shrugged out of his flannel in answer and held his arms out. He lifted his t-shirt up, exposing smooth, unmarred skin. No claw or knife marks remained.

Benny whistled softly. “How’d ya heal so fast? That wolf got you good at the end.”

“Cas used his angel mojo on me.”

Benny couldn’t help but eye the kid’s body appreciatively. He set his blood bag aside and approached Sam, holding eye contact with him as he wrapped an arm around his slim waist, head tilted up for a kiss. Sam let him press their mouths together despite the blood that he could surely taste in Benny’s mouth.

“How ‘bout we catch up later, sugar?”

 “It was the worst feeling…not feeling you with me anymore,” Sam whispered against Benny’s lips. “I’d like you there again. Inside me.” He pulled away briefly, reached into the drawer of the bedside cabinet and pressed a foil packet and a small bottle into Benny’s hands.

Benny could do that.

After all the necessary preparations, Benny rocked into Sam slow, moving between his legs as gently as waves lapping at the shore on a calm day. Sam clung tightly to him; arms and legs wrapped around shoulders and hips. His eyes were closed, head tilted back on the bed in pleasure.

Without the desperation that Purgatory had demanded, they were able to slow down and enjoy each other, skin on skin more intimate than hurried, half-dressed couplings in caves or against trees. Benny gradually increased his pace. Tears ran down the cuts of Sam’s fine cheekbones and Benny feared he was hurting him until Sam smiled up at him. He wiped the tears away and kissed him, savoring the tight, warm body beneath him.

“Wait, wait,” Sam said breathlessly. “Let me turn over.”

 Benny obliged and Sam rolled over onto his belly, legs spread and ready. Benny sank back into him with a groan, hands on Sam’s hipbones.

“Harder, Benny.” Sam arched his back and Benny wasn’t one to deny him anything.

 ‡ ‡ ‡

Benny fell asleep almost immediately after, curled up tight against Sam’s back. He was warm and well-fed and in the company of his maybe-mate once again. It was the closest a vampire could feel to contentment.

He didn’t know that Sam stayed awake long after he did, staring at the other empty bed and unable to sleep.


	2. Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the delay between chapters! (／。＼) I was struggling to write at the beginning of the year and I did something crazy: rewrote this chapter and part of the next one because I wasn't happy with how it was progressing. I think I'm out of my writer's block now so expect faster updates.
> 
> Again sorry and thanks for reading!

_Hold onto me._

* * *

 

_Castiel transported Sam from the wilderness of Maine all the way to Sioux Falls in the blink of an eye._

_Sam stumbled upon impact and dry-heaved in Bobby’s yard while the angel observed him passively with a tilted head. Without money, a car, or any possessions excluding weapons, Sam couldn’t have made it to Singer Salvage Yard on his own. The disorientation he experienced might have changed his mind though._

_“This is where I leave you for now,” the angel said. “I will call on you when your service is needed.”_

_“Wait,” Sam panted, “What about Dean? We can’t leave him in Hell any longer; he’s practically a demon now!”_

_Castiel looked at him with something like pity. “In the time you spent in Purgatory, whatever was left of your brother’s humanity was snuffed out. Now it is only a matter of time before he returns to Earth of his own accord. Your assistance is needed in capturing and subduing the demon that remains.”_

_A wave of sick horror washed over Sam. If only he hadn’t run from Dean when he found him maybe he could have been saved._

_“I will be back for you soon. Take care of yourself, Sam.” And with that Castiel was gone. With no other choice, Sam reluctantly trudged up to the house._

_“Damn it, boy! You nearly gave me another ulcer from worrying about your reckless ass!” was what greeted Sam when he knocked on Bobby’s door. He knew he was a sight for sore eyes with his bloodstained, tattered clothes and generally filthy appearance._

_Bobby pulled him into a hug anyway (splashing holy water on his arm) made Sam a sandwich, and didn’t demand answers until after Sam devoured his meal and cleaned up a little._

_“You’ve been gone for weeks, Sam. What the hell happened down there?”_

_Sam swallowed his mouthful of water painfully. “Dean is...Dean’s a demon now, Bobby. I ran. I was scared and I ran and ended up in Purgatory.” He gave Bobby the edited version of exactly what happened, leaving out most of Benny’s involvement in his escape but telling him everything he could about Castiel._

_“That’s... a lot to take in.” Bobby sat back in his chair, lined face pained. “As for Dean... I don’t know where to start. Maybe the angels know how to fix his soul up again. I don’t like the sound of this.”_

_Sam wiped at his eyes, exhaustion settling in his bones. “Me either. I’m beat, Bobby. I’m going to go crash.”_

_Bobby nodded. “I’m just glad you came back in one piece, Sam. We’ll figure this out.”_

_Sam gave him a weak smile, grateful that he wasn’t pushing for more information just yet._

_‡ ‡ ‡_

_Sam left Bobby’s after only three days of being there. He couldn’t handle the older hunter’s questions or the constant ringing of telephones. If any hunters dropped by, Sam hid upstairs from them, not wanting any extra scrutiny. There wasn’t any other lore to dig into for answers, at least not in Bobby’s collection. He wasn’t any use to Bobby when he was consumed with thoughts of Dean. Instead he drove east in the borrowed Chevelle (it was still too painful to drive the Impala alone) and ended up in another 2-star motel for some peace and quiet._

_A dog was barking nearby, grating on his nerves. Doors slammed, loud voices passed by his room’s windows. A noisy couple next door kept him awake late into the night. He could hear their moans even over the highest volume of the tiny TV. For some reason that bothered him the most even though he was long accustomed to hearing fellow motel guests...enjoying their rooms. It made for many awkward questions and silences between Sam and his father and brother growing up._

_The dog’s yaps started up again, louder than ever._

_Sam shivered in the early morning light, arms wrapped around his knees and back against the wall on the bed. Sweat formed under his arms and prickled his scalp. A restless feeling pooled under his skin but he didn’t want to leave the bed. Since that first night at Bobby’s, he wasn’t able to fall asleep easily and woke up often in the night. He didn’t know what was wrong with him; he hasn’t had a panic attack in years and now the howling of a dog set him off._

_“You’re suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder.” A deep voice said from the doorway startled him. Castiel. “It’s common among individuals who have experienced violent events. In your case, your experience of Purgatory.”_

_“T-thanks for the diagnosis,” Sam muttered. “How did you find me?”_

_“I’m your guardian. It’s my job to know where you are at all times.” The angel stepped into the room, eyes fixed on Sam’s hunched figure._

_“What do you want?”_

_“I’m here to train you. To get you ready to face the demon that was your brother.”_

_“Why me? I couldn’t help him in Hell,” Sam said miserably._

_“Your telekinetic powers-once dormant- have become activated from the stress of Purgatory. You can build on them, strengthen them.”_

_“Will I have to drink demon blood?” He sat up a little straighter, uncomfortable with the angel standing so still._

_“No. It is ill-advised. With your tainted blood, you are considered an abomination in Heaven’s eyes. But with the situation so dire, you have a part to play in saving your brother.”_

_“Can you save his soul?” Sam couldn’t pretend that the insult didn’t sting; he’d been praying his whole life to angels. For the safety of his family, for victims they couldn’t save, for a way out of the hunting life._

_Castiel didn’t answer right away. He touched two fingers to Sam’s forehead instead and Sam felt a wave of calm wash over his troubled thoughts._

_“There is a ritual. It won’t be easy on you or him.”_

_Sam stood up from the bed hastily._

_“When can we start?”_

‡ ‡ ‡

Sam woke up early the next morning disoriented and heart racing. Benny was fast asleep next to him, heavy arm draped over Sam’s middle and snoring a little. Carefully extricating himself, he limped to the bathroom and locked the door.

The beginnings of finger-shaped bruises decorated his sides from ribs down to hips. A vivid purple mark was left on his shoulder where Benny got a little too enthusiastic last night. Sam pressed a hand over his eyes, remembering the breathing exercises Castiel taught him to calm his still-pounding heart. When it was back under control, he showered away most of the pain and went to find clean clothes from his duffel bag.

Benny woke up as he pulled on boxers.

“C’mere, _cher_. Sugar,” he purred. Sam hesitated but moved closer, wanting to put his fears aside. The vampire pulled him into his lap.

“Sam?” Benny wrapped his arms around him. “Y’alright? Your heart’s beatin’ mighty fast.”

Sam nodded, throat tight. Sometimes he could still feel a heavy weight of iron around his neck.

“Did I hurt you?” The vampire asked quietly, fingers touching the sore love bite on Sam’s skin.

“Not too bad, no,” Sam cleared his throat.

“We don’t have to do anything, if you don’t want to. Just tell me.” Gentle hands set him down on the bed.

“I want to,” Sam said slowly, “But... I’m afraid. I’ve had trouble adjusting since getting back and I don’t want to go back to what we were in Purgatory. All the violence...” he sighed.

“No, I know, sugar.”

Sam leaned against Benny. “I like having someone close. Have always slept better with someone else in the room.”

“Maybe we can work up to it. I’m not hurt, Sam. Just worried what havin’ me around might do to you.”

“I want you here,” he said forcefully.

They just held each other for a while until Sam’s stomach growled and they reluctantly got ready to face the day.

After stopping for necessary provisions (food for Sam, clothes and toiletries for Benny) they headed east in Bobby’s car. Sam let Benny read up on his research for the small town haunting he promised Bobby he’d take care of. It was fairly cut and dry and just a matter of locating the right grave.

John Winchester’s journal was next; it felt weirdly intimate to let Benny read his father’s life’s work that also included anecdotes from his and Dean’s childhoods. Benny had many questions about hunting and life in the present. He’d been dead since the 60’s and times had changed considerably. Sam did his best to fill him in but eventually decided to teach Benny how to use his laptop when they stopped for the night.

“A portable computer, eh?” Benny chuckled.

“We’ll have to get you your own phone but you can use one of those in my bag.”

“Portable phones too. Whew I have a lot to catch up on,” Benny said thoughtfully. “I’d eventually like to track my old nest down like I’d planned and pay them a little visit. And maybe see if I have any relations alive.”

“Were you married before?” Sam asked. They never talked much about Benny’s life as a human. Not that they had time to in Purgatory.

“Uh-huh. Married my childhood sweetheart, Alma. We had three young’uns, two boys and a little girl that died as a babe. Lord knows what they thought happened when I was turned.”

Benny looked sadly at the journal in his lap. “The Old Man made a right bloody mess of me before he carried me away from my human life. I just hope my family didn’t think I ran off on ‘em. After little Emmeline passed, things were just different between me and Alma.”

 “We can search for them online. There’s bound to be records, birth certificates, properties...just for some closure.”

“I’d like that,” Benny patted Sam’s knee and set John’s journal aside. “What are we doin’ after taking care of this ghost? Do you have any info on your brother?”

“Cas is supposed to call on me when the angels need me. Just killing time until then, I guess,” Sam glanced over at the vampire. “There’s a purifying ritual that can save Dean. Cas has been filling me in, training me a bit to prepare. I could really use your help, Benny, if you’re willing.”

“You don’t even have to ask. I’m yours,” Benny said sincerely.


	3. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean had been watching Sam since he got back from Purgatory.

_Fate  
Up against your will_

* * *

 

Dean had been watching Sam since he got back from Purgatory.

Watched him meet that stupid, junkless angel and make googly eyes at him. He almost reached out to Sam then, when Sam was covered in wounds and blood from his stay in Monsterland, arm lit up with an unfamiliar soul. His little brother was strong and cunning, surviving there and being clever enough to find his way out again. Dean always admired that about Sam.

Watched him mope around Bobby’s house and then strike out on his own. Bobby would just have to stay out of their way. A tiny part of Dean acknowledged that the old hunter was family but anyone that got between him and Sam was a threat and he wouldn’t hesitate to take action.

The angel would have to go as well; Dean learned a way or two that would get rid of him and any others that happened to flock around. They didn’t seem to be able to track his movements yet even when he revived his own meatsuit from its not-so-final resting place with the help of a little dark magic. You can pick up the strangest skills in Hell if you’re not too distracted by the torture.

Sammy’s powers were growing even without the blood. Dean’s dark heart swelled with pride. Maybe the angel was good for at least keeping Sam sharp. Dean had so much to teach him.

Dean had made a name for himself in Hell through sheer brute force on the rack. Most of the lower level scum were afraid of him because of his connection with Hell’s head torturer. Just with a look into his eyes and they knew who he was: his eyes were bleaching out the further he got from his humanity. He wondered idly if Sam would miss his green eyes or prefer the new set. Someday they’d turn from dark smoky gray to bone white like Alastair’s.

Or Lilith’s. Dean was saving her death for Sam. He knew what that bitch wanted for Sammy and he couldn’t allow that.

There wasn’t a good opportunity to slip Sam some of the good stuff yet. If he didn’t cooperate Dean would just have to kill him and wait for his soul to turn in Hell. Purgatory was just a warmup after all. Sam could handle it and Dean would make sure to keep an eye on him.

That left the vampire. He would be easy to dispose of, even if it hurt Sam. The thought of that bloodsucker turning Sam into one of them made Dean seethe. He knew how vampires thought ever since they started cropping up again: all they wanted were meals and mates and Dean couldn’t let little brother stray into the arms of another monster after all. He was Dean’s prince.

Dean just wanted to share his new life with the person he loved the most in the world. He wanted the purity of killing, of blood shared between them. They would be beyond death and neither would have to suffer without the other again.

Now he just needed Sam to come to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another small update. Twoish chapters to go. Kudos and comments are always appreciated! :D


End file.
